Unwritten: Daily Docs: August 20, 2020

The Prompt:

You discover a library with a biography for everyone on earth. While reading your own, you notice whenever someone else is mentioned, there's a footnote showing where you can find their biography. It's odd how someone who was only a sentence in your book has a whole chapter for you.

The Library

She tasted the dry, clammy taste of sand before she opened her eyes. It pricked at her eyes, her nose, her mouth. The grainy stuff was everywhere, though that’s what Brooklyn Pieper expected when she made the trek to the North American desert. Alone. 

She picked up her head and opened her eyes. Strands of her matted blonde hair escaped her braid and clung to her face, the lingering effects of a day spent hiking the Sierra Nevada. Brooklyn knew she desperately needed a shower. There was a thick layer of dust and dirt covering her tanned skin, not to mention the crispy state of her hair. Lake Tahoe and her condo was still a full day of hiking away, though, and Brooklyn knew she’d collapse on her bed before dragging her sorry ass to the shower, no matter how caked she was in nature. Besides, there were a few lakes and streams she could dip into if needed. 

Brooklyn sat up from the hard ground and left her tent. It was still relatively dark, but the first hues of grey-blue were starting to appear in the eastern skyline. Sunrise was fast approaching, and Brooklyn needed to get moving if she wanted to beat the afternoon heat and get back to her condo before nightfall. 

It took all of fifteen minutes for Brooklyn to pack up camp and resume her journey. The sky lightened significantly by that time. The inky blue sky gave way to hues of grey, pink and orange as the sun peaked its way over the horizon. It was Brooklyn’s favorite part of the day, though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. She labeled herself as a closested morning person, since all of her friends were notorious night owls. Brooklyn had no trouble getting up at five or six in the morning, often doing so to get a good run in before work. Still, she needed her eight hours of sleep. Wake her up mid-REM cycle, and the woman was basically a fire-breathing dragon without the capability to actually breath fire. 

The cool morning air rejuvenated Brooklyn’s tired body. She put her muscles through hell the last three days, pushing herself to limits she hadn’t explored in a while. It wasn’t like Brooklyn was immune to physical labor. She was a member of the FBI’s Boston Office working organized crime and trained for crossfit competitions in her spare time. She was also an experienced hiker thanks to her dad. The daughter of a single father and National Park Ranger, Brooklyn mastered the toughest hikes in Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons and the Grand Canyon before she could drive. She knew how to survive days in both Death Valley and the Alaskan wilderness. Her childhood dream was to summit Mount Everest, and her plan was to join either the Park Rangers or the research teams studying in the National Parks too. 

Then everything changed. Brooklyn was in her fifth year at Colorado College, working her way through the last year of her Master’s program when she got the call. Sam had been murdered outside a grocery store in her hometown, the victim of a random shooting. Only it didn’t feel random to Brooklyn. Her father taught her to hunt, and she recognized the bullet wound through her father’s chest. He was shot point blank, meaning he knew or recognized the shooter from somewhere. It wasn’t random or accidental, but the police didn’t believe her. They all chalked it off as a grief stricken daughter’s coping mechanism, and ruled the murder an accidental homicide. The killer was never caught. 

Brooklyn dropped out of her Master’s program and went back to school for criminal justice. In ten years, she joined the Denver Police Department, worked her way up to detective and joined the FBI. She took on the worst of the worst criminals, volunteering for the organized crime beats in an attempt to find her father’s murder. It fueled and drained her, until Brooklyn was on the verge of going mad. 

Ten years, Brooklyn realized. It was the ten year anniversary of her father’s murder. Ten years of putting herself back together, of rebuilding her life, of working her way up the FBI to catch the bastards that killed him. For ten years she worked her ass off to be the best FBI agent she could be. She gave up friends, relationships, eating to reach the upper echelon, and watched it all come crashing down around her. 

First, it started with her mentor, Richard Lancaster. He was originally her training officer in Quantico, then became her superior at the field office in Boston. He was the special agent in charge of the organized crime unit and headed the McGinty task force Brooklyn was assigned to. He groomed her into the agent she was today. Early on, Brooklyn hung on his every word. He helped drag her out of the gutter after her father’s death and taught her to channel her grief. He was her savior and her mentor, and she idolized him. Brooklyn considered him a father figure, but she always thought he considered her in a similar light, like the daughter he lost in a school shooting. 

Brooklyn realized too late that wasn’t the case. One late night, after one too many drinks, Richard admitted his feelings for Brooklyn and claimed she was the only woman he ever loved. She rejected him as softly as she could, but he tried to assault her in the restaurant bathroom later that night. She could still feel the heat of his breath on her neck as he attacked her by the sink and the rough grip of his hands as he covered her mouth and her screams.

She got away, but barely. The restaurant caught everything on tape, and Brooklyn filed a police report. Richard Lancaster wasn’t fired, but he was banished to the Bureau's Alaskan field office, more commonly known among the agents as purgatory. 

Rather than be condemned for turning in a senior agent, Brooklyn was promoted for her bravery and took Richard’s place as SAC. At first, she didn’t want to accept the position, but years of therapy helped her through the guilt and victim blaming. She eventually met her boyfriend, Declan O’Rielly, through a joint case with the Marshall’s, and he proposed on a hiking trip to Zion National Park. 

So see, Brooklyn finally thought she would get her happy ending. She accepted her father’s death and her mentor’s betrayal. She met the man of her dreams and was ready to settle down in Boston. Sure, she missed the mountains and the wide open spaces of the Western United States, but Brooklyn Pieper was happy, maybe the happiest she’d been since her father’s death. 

Then everything went topsy turvy. The McGinty task force was going nowhere. Sure, they’d manage to take down a few integral members, but they were no closer to bringing down the organization. They needed something big, something to turn the tides, so Brooklyn went under. Like always, she started at the bottom and worked her way up the ranks, eventually getting inside McGinty’s inner circle. 

That’s when everything went to shit. McGinty had a mole in the task force and knew Brooklyn was Fed. One night, while Brooklyn was at a “Family meeting”, Declan was kidnapped. It was the stereotypical ransom story: Brooklyn received a call when she arrived home and found her apartment trashed. She was told a time, place and an amount of money to bring. If she involved the Feds or anyone on her team, Declan would die, so she better come alone. 

Brooklyn told her best friend, Jackson Offendorf, an analyst with the bureau. They worked together and found Declan before the meet, but it was a trap. When Brooklyn showed up, she was captured by McGinty’s men and forced to watch Declan’s torture. He died before her eyes, and she was beaten within an inch of her life before the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit showed up to save the day.

And that was how Brooklyn Pieper ended up in the Sierra Nevada mountain range in the middle of June. After weeks of physical therapy and seeing the FBI shrink, Brooklyn was cleared for active duty again. The head of the field office, though, didn’t agree. On Brooklyn’s first day back, he called her into his office for a routine meeting and said her mission was simple: take three weeks of paid vacation and do anything that didn’t involve the FBI or the McGinty’s. She needed to get her head on straight, and he didn’t want to see her until that happened. 

At first, Brooklyn was furious. Her whole life was the FBI, and she worked her ass off to get back. Passed every physical and mental test thrown her way with flying colors and was cleared for active duty in record time. She needed to work. She had to work. She just needed to get back to normal. 

Jackson helped her through the anger. He was always there with a shoulder to either punch or cry on. He even helped Brooklyn book the tickets and plan the trip to Nevada. Originally, Brooklyn planned on taking the Europe vacation she and Declan always dreamed of, but it was too soon. His death was still too raw, and she missed the mountains. She wanted to go home, and there was only one place that ever felt like that in her life. 

Brooklyn felt the first beads of sweat form on the back of her neck. She’d been hiking for a full five hours, and the sun was now high in the sky, beating down on her poor, tired body. At some point, she shed her quarter zip and threw it in her pack, opting to walk through the heat of the day in a tank top and crop leggings. She was tired, though. Brooklyn needed to stop and refuel, or she would never reach the condo by nightfall even at her determined pace. 

Luckily, Brooklyn was less than a mile away from the perfect stopping spot. After a ten minute walk, Brooklyn emerged through the trees to the rock bed of clear blue mountain lake, the kind that was popular on postcards and travel guides to the area. This one, though, wasn’t a tourist trap like so many others. It was relatively unknown and very much off the beaten path, one of the many reasons Brooklyn loved it. Her dad bought her there when she was six years old as a reward for good grades. She’d been back several times, mostly by herself. Once she brought Declan, and she invited Jackson once, but it was her spot. Well, her’s and her dad’s. 

Brooklyn threw her pack on the ground and sat at the edge of the water. A cool breeze wafted off its surface and flowed through the trees, bringing a tranquility back to Brooklyn’s life. That hike felt more like a form of punishment than something she enjoyed. Brooklyn pushed herself to the brink, both mentally and physically, but she ignored every wave of emotion that threatened to take her down. She was powering through the hike like she powered through life, ignoring the anger, frustration and deep sadness that randomly threatened to boil over. 

Brooklyn removed her boots and thick socks, setting them out on a nearby boulder to dry in the shade, and massaged her poor feet to the cadence of the water. It hummed and hawed in and out like a beating drum. Brooklyn’s heartbeat slowed to match it, and she eventually removed her earbuds because the music’s tempo didn’t match natures. It was a moment Brooklyn just wanted to exist in and be a part of, even if it offered no clarity to her life.

The water called her as she worked her aching feet and calf muscles. The steady rhythm of the waves combined with the breeze were like the outstretched arms of a friend. Brooklyn checked her watch. It was barely noon, meaning she had time to dip her body in the water. She retreated a few steps and carefully removed her clothing, setting each individual piece on the rock with her boots and shoes. She then removed her father’s leather bracelet from her right wrist, her watch from the left, and Declan’s engagement ring. Even when he was alive, Brooklyn wore the ring on a chain around her neck and now it was a part of her. 

With everything removed, Brooklyn was bare in the Nevada sun. Yes she was naked and exposed, but for the first time, she felt truly vulnerable, as though she was laying herself bare for the first time in her life. Cautiously she looked around, first to her left, then her right, scanning the trees for other people. She was alone, just as she had been for the past two and a half weeks. 

“Get ahold of yourself Pieper.” Brooklyn chastised herself before jumping in the lake, the cool water banishing any and all thoughts of the past ten years. 

***

Brooklyn stayed by the lake longer than anticipated. She swam in the cool water for as long as her body allowed. Her arms and legs felt rejuvenated, a newfound strength forming as she swam from one end of the tiny lake to the water as though it was just another trip to the Sierra Nevada. As though Brooklyn Pieper herself was just another woman or even so, just another girl, still innocent, free and naive. 

After the swim, Brooklyn grabbed a blanket from her pack and laid it out on the pebbly beach. She couldn’t afford to get her last set of clean clothes wet, so she opted to dry off naturally in the sun. The warm rays licked at her skin, taking both water droplets and Brooklyn’s rising anxieties with them. For the first time in months, maybe even years, Brooklyn felt relaxed, and it wasn’t long before she slipped off into a natural sleep. 

For the first time in months, there were no nightmares when Brooklyn slept. There were no dreams. There was nothing except the warmth of the sun on her back. She simply stopped existing. Her worries evaporated and not a single question danced through her mind and messed with her head. It was perfect, until she woke up. 

Brooklyn’s eyes popped open on their own accord. She wasn’t confused. She remembered falling asleep on the blanket after swimming in the lake. She remembered she was naked. She remembered all the reasons she went on this trip in the first place, but she didn’t have to like it. Begrudgingly, Brooklyn propped herself up on her elbows, accepting her fate. It was time to head back to reality. 

She put on a new pair of underwear and a cleaner sports bra before redressing in the leggings and tank top. They were slightly crusty and smelled like sweat, but Brooklyn wasn’t too far from the condo. Only a few hours, and she would be reunited with her bed, indoor plumbing and civilization. Brooklyn was looking forward to the bed and shower, but not so much civilization. 

She wound her watch and bracelet around her wrists before checking the time on her phone. She’d kept it on airplane mode the majority of the week, only switching it off to text Jackson and let him know she was alive. Jackson was a whiz at technology, and could definitely find ways to check on Brooklyn if she wanted to go totally off grid. He said so himself multiple times before she left, which is why they went with a simply check in system. Brooklyn would send a sun emoji each morning and a moon emoji each night, a reference to their training days at Quantico. If she was in trouble, she would send Jackson a clover leaf emoji, just like she did during the McGinty investigation. It was the only reason the BAU even saved her that day. 

Fortunately, Brooklyn didn’t have to send any clovers in Nevada. Not once did she ever feel threatened during the trip. Sure, she ran across a bear and her cubs once, but she knew the procedures to avoid getting mauled. Brooklyn was smart. Her dad taught her well, so she rarely ever had anything to worry about. 

A chittering broke Brooklyn out of her trance. Her eyes darted to her right, where she saw a harmless squirrel checking out her pack. She smiled, noticing its cheeks were stuffed full of something. 

“Hey little guy,” Brooklyn bent down and calmly approached the squirrel. Normally, they were extremely jittery creatures, especially in remote areas, but this one stayed put. It stared at Brooklyn, which was highly off putting. A stare down with a criminal she could handle, but this squirrel seemed to be new territory. It felt like the animal was staring into her soul, seeing things Brooklyn didn’t even reveal to her therapist. 

“What you got there,” Brooklyn wasn’t sure why she was talking to the squirrel. Maybe she was suffering from heat stroke or her psychopathy finally caught up to her in the desert. Either way, the squirrels cheeks were awfully full, and Brooklyn had the feeling she wanted whatever was stored in there. 

In a flash, the squirrel answered. It stood on its hind legs and proudly spat out an object that sparkled in the afternoon sun. Brooklyn brought her hand to her chest and realized her engagement ring was gone. She took it off to go swimming, something she rarely did, and assumed the squirrel stole it when she was napping. 

A flutter and panic shot through Brooklyn’s body. She could not and would not lose that ring. It was the only thing of Declan’s that she kept, as she donated nearly all of his clothes and belongings. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t part with it. It was the one emotional indulgence she allowed herself, and Brooklyn simply was not about to let a squirrel run off with it. 

Unfortunately, that was exactly what the squirrel did. As Brooklyn contemplated her strategy to get the ring back, the squirrel picked it up in its front teeth and took off running away from both Brooklyn and the lake. Brooklyn immediately sprinted after it, only pausing to pick up her backpack and fling it over her shoulders. 

Instinct took over as Brooklyn chased the squirrel through the forest. Her eyes were laser focused on the creature as it darted through trees and patches of shade. Her breathing was level as she kept pace, the squirrel always just inches ahead of her. She felt like she was pursuing a criminal again, which is exactly what the squirrel was in her mind. He stole one of her most prized possessions, second only to her father’s leather bracelet.

The chase continued far longer than it should have. The squirrel never dropped the ring as Brooklyn hoped, and she never caught up to it enough to pry the ring away. It was as though the squirrel was a robot, spurred on by some chemical charge to lead Brooklyn deep into the forest. 

For a second, the FBI agent kicked in. She slowed, wondering if this was somehow a trap, the McGinty’s or their allies luring Brooklyn to her death. They never did find the mole in her task force, but the BAU arrested nearly every high ranking member of the organization. They all partook in her assault and Declan’s kidnapping/murder, even McGinty himself, and they were all serving consecutive life sentences for assaulting a federal agent. 

Brooklyn heard a snap of a nearby twig and froze, her hand immediately wandering to her hip where she normally kept her side arm. Of course, it wasn’t there. Brooklyn brought her personal gun on the trek, opting to leave the FBI standard issue firearm at home, but kept it in the bottom of her pack. It was to be used for extreme emergencies only, but Brooklyn knew the truth. If she needed to use her gun out in the wilderness, she was as good as dead. 

Another twig snapped in the distance to Brooklyn’s right, the squirrel no longer at the forefront of her mind. The brokenhearted woman was gone, replaced by the calculating, impartial agent. Brooklyn took in and observed everything with an objective eye. For the first time, she realized she had no idea where she was. She never wandered this deep into the forest, often opting to stay close to the path to avoid getting lost. Even her father warned her never to stray far from the path, lest she run into something she couldn’t outrun. 

Using her training Brooklyn followed the path of the sound, turning to her right and slowly lurking through the trees. In the shade, a chill settled over her body, the shade blocking the sun’s warmth. An uneasy feeling settled in Brooklyn’s stomach as she pushed forward, her senses heightened and head on a swivel. 

Just then, something darted out of a nearby bush. Despite her training, Brooklyn jumped ten feet in the air and screamed, her body too worked up and jittery to do anything else.

“Oh thank God,” Brooklyn let out a sigh and smiled to herself when she saw it was just the same squirrel she chased earlier. “It’s just you.”

The squirrel seemed to smile at Brooklyn before turning to run again. She sighed. It was clearly a pointless chase, and yet, her gut was telling her to follow. Brooklyn always preached that investigation is half good detective work and half instinct, so she followed the squirrel, accepting the fact that she was probably going crazy. Squirrels don’t smile, and they certainly don’t lead humans on wild chases through mountain forests. Right?

Fog started to creep through the trees as Brooklyn ran, which was strange. June in Nevada meant hot and sun, not humidity and fog. Yet in this part of the woods, it felt like Nevada was very far away. If she believed in that stuff, Brooklyn might have thought she was transported to a different realm all together, but that was the stuff of fairy tales.

Then, she saw it. A cabin set among the trees, shrouded in the same fog that crept along the ground as Brooklyn ran. She noted it’s large, pointed roof matched the slope of the mountain peak in the distance, and its red-pine walls seemed out of place in the western mountain range. Most cabins in the area were built of a lighter pine or oak, and never red. The redwood trees and sequoias were sacred in the area, meant to be protected rather than used for commercial purposes. 

Yet there it was, a redwood cabin in the middle of redwood pines. Brooklyn walked toward it, her curiosity taking over the instinctual urge to call in for backup. The single step creaked under her boots from neglect, and she held her breath as she reached for the doorknob, promising herself she would return to the trail if it was locked. 

It wasn’t. The knob turned easily in Brooklyn’s hand, the latch making the ever familiar clicking sound as she twisted. With a little push forward, it then swung open as though it was used daily. There were no creaky hinges, no ominous sounds. The door simply opened wide, beckoning Brooklyn inside just as the water did earlier that afternoon. 

Brooklyn stood on the tiny porch and checked her watch. It was almost three in the afternoon. If she wanted to get home before nightfall, she had to leave the cabin behind and try to find it another day. She had no idea where she was in the woods or how far off the beaten path she strayed. And yet, Brooklyn didn’t want to leave. Something told her she needed to go through those doors and see for herself what was inside. 

Before she went in, Brooklyn dropped the back from her shoulders and dug around through its contents, eventually finding wrapped in a scarf at the bottom of the bag. She removed it and placed the bag back on her shoulders. Brooklyn hated using her gun, even in the field, but at this moment, it was better to be safe than sorry. She didn’t want to be killed or attacked by an overeager hermit or zealot.

Brooklyn assumed the proper stance and slowly made her way into the cabin. It took her two steps to walk through the doorways threshold, but the sight that greeted Brooklyn was shocking. It was no ordinary cabin she stumbled upon. Rather than a kitchen or living room, Brooklyn was surrounded by shelves and rows of books. It was a giant wooden library, one that seemingly contained books of every size, shape and color imaginable. 

Brooklyn started to walk towards a nearby row when she heard the familiar chittering. The squirrel joined her in the library, the engagement ring still clenched between his front teeth. She looked down at it and smiled, hoping to disarm the animal before reclaiming her ring once and for all. 

“You little shit!” The instant Brooklyn lowered herself to a deep sprint, the squirrel took off running. Like before, Brooklyn followed in pursuit, growing more and more embarrassed as she did. Who the hell chased squirrels to a random library in the middle of the woods to retrieve a ring? Crazy people, the kind Brooklyn was paid to chase. 

Still, she followed the squirrel as it led her deeper through the shelves, around corners and passed tomes that looked as old as time. The squirrel was relentless until finally it stopped. Whether it ran out of room or had nowhere to go, the squirrel came to an abrupt halt, dropping the engagement ring to the floor in the process. 

“Ha!” Brooklyn slowed to a stop and bent over triumphantly to grab the ring. It was still miraculously attached to its chain, and both looked unharmed. There were no visible scratches or nicks on the band, something Brooklyn expected to see. She turned the ring over in her hand, not once but twice, examining it for any strange markings. 

Brooklyn turned her attention to the squirrel. It was looking at her expectantly, like a dog waiting for a treat. Once again unnerved, Brooklyn set her gun on the ground and busied herself with the necklace. The chain was slightly tangled, but her long fingers deftly worked at the kinks. Satisfied with her work, Brooklyn returned the necklace to its rightful place and finally took in her surroundings. The squirrel led her to a bookshelf at the very back of the cabin, its long row running the entire length. 

Exhausted, Brooklyn picked up her gun and rose to a standing position. At 5’8, she was considered tall for a woman, but she certainly wasn’t a skyscraper. Maybe that’s why it was a shock to find herself at eye level with the highest row of the bookshelf. She didn't even hear her gun clatter to the floor when she found herself staring at her name etched into the spine of a book.